Under Pressure
by Snow Slayer
Summary: It's almost like another day in the office. The boss wants some information and there's a limited amount of time to supply the data. The only difference is that it's Mr. Freeze's ex-boss and he has a gun pointed straight at the scientist's head. *Warnings: Gore and violence*


**Under Pressure**

The nozzle of the pistol pressed firmly into the crevice of his neck just below his skull. A twitch of the finger would have ended his life in seconds. Victor Fries halted his research, fingers poised above the keyboard. The cursor blinked rapidly in place, obliviously awaiting his next command.

"It's so much easier to get ahold of you, doctor, now that you've retired from crime. Much easier than getting an appointment with your wife."

"What do you want, Ferris?" Victor growled, eyes glued to the screen. He flexed his fingers slowly over the right edge of the keyboard, feeling for a button.

"I just wanted to stop by and see my old employee!" Ferris sneered, mashing the gun harder into Victor's neck. "Now, why don't you put your hands on top of your desk where I can see them. Do it nice and slow. I've gotten quite jumpy since you attacked me, and it'd be a shame if I accidently put a bullet through your empty little skull."

"I'm sure that's the last thing you'd want," Victor spat as he gingerly pressed the hidden button. He paused a moment, and when nothing happened, he resigned himself to following the order. With steady movements, he pulled his hands out from the small cabinet with the keyboard and placed both hands flat on the desktop's surface.

"There's no need to get nasty," Ferris laughed.

"Of course not, Mr. Boyle, _sir_. Not when you've got a gun to my head."

"Don't be so redundant. Close out of whatever you were working on. I'll give myself one guess and say it's the cure for your wife, which you still haven't found." Ferris jabbed the heavily gloved finger of his other hand into Victor's temple.

"Is there even anything going on up there? It's been over seven years, Fries! Yet, you have nothing to show for all your hard work." Victor said nothing, merely saving his work and navigating back to the desktop.

"Good. Now pull up the schematics for your suit and weapons," Ferris commanded, tapping the gun impatiently.

"This computer is solely for research. There is very little information on my designs on the hard drive. I assume you want the complete designs so that you can patent them and sell it as your own."

"Say, maybe you're not so dull after all. Might I suggest you figure out a way to obtain the information quickly? Otherwise, I'll have to stretch my fingers a bit to keep the blood flowing. It's not exactly a sauna in here and I have to keep warm somehow. Plus, I'm not sure how many more _accidents_ you'll be able to survive."

"There may be a saved version in my suit's internal memory. I should be able to access the schematics your require. Then I'll package it all on a flash drive for you."

"That's more like the wage slave I remember! If only you would have just behaved, you could have gone far at my company," Ferris pretended to reminisce. He jerked Victor to his feet, keeping a sturdy grip on the back of the light shirt the scientist wore. Victor led the way to the next room where his cryo-suit was stored when he needed to leave his subzero lab.

"This better not be a trick. If it even looks like you're planning to retaliate, I'll be more concerned with cleaning you off of the suit when I resell it."

"Most of the offensive capabilities have been removed," Victor responded dryly.

"I hope for your sake you're right." Victor powered up the gauntlet, selecting a few menu items on the holographic screen. A loading bar appeared on the screen, and both men watched as it steadily climbed to one hundred. After a single beep, Victor slowly reached further up the arm and removed a memory chip.

"I'll take that," Ferris snatched the chip out of Victor's hand.

"It's encrypted," Victor stated. "You'll need me to remove the passcodes on the computer."

"Good decision. I would have hated to have to come back for a follow-up. As soon as you get all the data I need, I'll show myself out and we'll pretend that none of this happened."

"What's to stop you from killing me?" Victor ventured as he was forced back into his seat.

"I don't particularly want your blood on my hands, if I don't need it. That, and I know you won't turn me in the second I'm out of sight. You may think that Nora is safe, buried in her icy tomb in the heart of Wayne Enterprise, but let me remind you of one thing: She's more easily killed than moved at this point. That's why I came straight to the source instead of bothering to secure your wife."

"I'm sure you're well aware of the malpractice in Gotham's justice system," Ferris continued boldly. "It's so easily manipulated to suit my needs. I could do a lot more damage before you could even get me in the courtroom. And what do you care if I spend a few years in jail while your wife is six feet under?" Victor felt his hand clench into a fist, but he ground his teeth into his lip to keep from responding. Instead, he delved past his security systems with Ferris watching over his shoulder.

"Part of the weapons file has been . . . removed," Victor admitted softly as he scrolled through the data again.

"What do you mean removed?"

"My newer developments are no longer saved in the computer's memory. Batman must have destroyed the files when he disabled some of the offensive capabilities."

"So you don't have everything I want," Ferris reiterated. Victor could feel the gun being tapped against his shoulder, but he dared not attempt a counter strike.

"You've been out of the business world for too long," Ferris sighed. "I really expected better of you." Victor saw the bullet embed itself in his desk with a splash of red before the searing pain brought tears to his eyes. His breath caught in his chest as he turned his attention to the exit wound a few inches below his collar bone on the far right of his chest, blood rapidly discoloring his shirt.

". . . more chance, Victor. Don't disappoint me," Ferris' words began to take on meaning after Victor's ears had stopped ringing. The gun was back against his head, searing the skin for a few more seconds before it cooled in the low temperatures. Victor gargled something unintelligent, bringing his left hand up as if to verify the injury. He gingerly touched the gaping flesh, recoiling with cry of pain. Doubling over, Victor could do nothing as the full wave of pain washed over him.

Ferris grabbed Victor's wounded shoulder and wrenched him up to a seated position. He kicked the chair so that Victor was now facing him.

"I need those designs, Victor. I have an important deal riding on them. I also have five more bullets."

"I can get them," Victor pleaded. "I just need more time!" He gritted his teeth as Ferris squeezed his shoulder tighter.

"Time is money. You know that. You expect me to believe you don't have a back up around here." Ferris gracefully put another bullet through Victor's left thigh.

"Let's get this straight," Ferris stated calmly. "I need the information now. I'll give you a few minutes to collect yourself, but you're going to give it to me within the hour. Understand?" Victor's chest quivered as he could not find the strength to pull in a full breath. He dipped his chin down in a nod.

"Good. Now get to—" Ferris did not finish his sentence before his head collided with the desk. The gun discharged harmlessly into the wall as Batman held Ferris' wrist in a death grip. Batman pried the gun from Ferris' unconscious fingers as he threw the man to the floor.

"I need medical attention for gunshot wounds! Now!" Batman barked into the ear piece. He gently helped Victor lay on the ground, doing what he could to staunch the heavy blood flow.

"Hang in there, Victor. Help is on the way," Batman spoke soothingly.

"Didn't . . . think," Victor wheezed, curling into a ball.

"I know, you didn't think I was coming when you called. I should have been here sooner. I'm sorry. I heard everything on the communication system when you turned it on, and I came as soon as I could." Batman administered a small dose of pain medication to tide the scientist over. "I have my team watching over Nora now, if it will put your mind at ease. She's in safe hands." Victor made a noise, which Batman thought might have been thanks, as the medical staff rushed in. They knelt at Victor's side, expertly tending the wounds. A team of police officers were not far behind.

Batman pulled the keyboard out from its shelf and switched the communicator off. He removed the memory chip and gave it to Commissioner Gordon when he walked in.

"Here's the audio for Boyle's attack tonight," the caped crusader entrusted the chip to him. Commissioner Gordon glanced as the paramedics frantically worked.

"Is he going to be alright?" he asked nervously.

"It was two gunshot wounds, but they did not appear to hit anything vital. It might be a few weeks of recovery, but I think he'll be alright." Batman shook his head.

"I should have stopped this," he lamented. "We knew he'd be in danger."

"You can't be everywhere at once," Jim assured him. "You've done a lot to make sure he and Nora are safe. And we'll make sure this criminal," he jerked his thumb towards Ferris, "isn't on the streets for a long time."


End file.
